Five Times
by KP02
Summary: In which Bruce considers each of his teammates, and helps them. AKA: in which I have a word barf and a character study from Bruce's point of view is created, with tiny ficlets in each one. No slash.


**A/N: I honestly don't know what happened… It was like a word barf or something, and this was produced. I don't even know what to call it… Also, I'm horrible at Thor, which is why his is at the top. Maybe by the end you'll have forgotten it. :P**

* * *

**Thor**

Bruce wasn't really sure what to make of the Asgardian. Thor seemed to be the complete opposite of him, big, loud, afraid of nothing, and regretting very little. Bruce admired him for that, and was especially grateful for his strength when dealing with the 'Other Guy'. If all else failed, Thor just let him try and lift his hammer until he got tired out. Not the best strategy, but certainly effective. Bruce had also noticed that for all his blustering, Thor was the most sensitive out of all of them. Children flocked to him, despite his loud voice. In fact, if there were children in the immediate vicinity, they were immediately drawn to him, and he would regale them with tales of his life on Asgard. Bruce had his suspicions that most of them were heavily embellished, but he wouldn't ruin the warrior's fun. In short, Thor was everything Bruce wanted to be, but never could.

Which is why he was very confused when Thor came to him for advice.

"Dr. Banner! I need your help!" Thor announced as he walked into the common room. Bruce set his book down and smiled at the blond man.

"How can I help?" He asked. They were the only two in the room, and Bruce had been enjoying the silence, but he didn't mind helping the Asgardian with whatever technical issues he was having.

"I do not know the Midgardian method of apologizing to your ladies." As Thor sat across from him, Bruce was really wishing that he had asked someone else. If he knew the answer to that question, he'd be the richest man in the world.

"Uh, are you sure you want to ask me?" He asked a little cautiously.

"Who would you suggest?" Thor looked at him with big blue eyes, and Bruce just couldn't fathom throwing him to the sharks that Tony and Clint were. He doubted Natasha would help, and he wasn't sure Steve even knew any women besides Natasha.

"Alright, um, why is your, er, lady, upset with you?" Bruce slipped off his glasses and rubbed his nose.

"She disliked the fact that I did not come to her right away when I returned to Earth. I could not though, Loki had my attention." Thor shrugged helplessly.

"Well, you could try flowers and chocolate. Women usually like that." Bruce was floundering and he knew it. He hadn't really had anything to do with romantic stuff for a long time; not much time for it while he was on the run, and he didn't want those kinds of ties anyways. Thor seemed to brighten anyways.

"I will take your advice! Do you know where I can obtain these flowers and chocolates?" Bruce sighed.

"You'll have to ask Tony about that one." He was fairly certain that he could trust the billionaire with that much. Thor stood and clapped his shoulder.

"Thank you very much, Dr. Banner." Bruce coughed.

"Yeah, anytime." He said, picking up his book as the other man left. He couldn't concentrate on it though, images of blue eyes and chocolate brown hair kept replacing the words.

"I miss you, Betty."

* * *

**Steve**

Bruce tried to protect Steve. It was odd really, considering that the super soldier had been what he'd been trying to achieve, what his goal was. Some would even say that Steve was the reason Bruce was what he was today. Maybe that's why Bruce felt the need to protect Steve; he didn't want him tainted by monsters like him. So he protected him from afar, making sure that Tony and Clint didn't utterly confuse the poor man, although to be fair, the Captain had already learned a lot about the modern world. Even the Other Guy appeared to know what Bruce was doing; he had heard from Tony that his alter ego had saved Steve in a few different instances. Bruce knew that Steve wasn't innocent by any means; he had been a soldier in one of the worst wars in history, he knew where human depravity could lead. But he still felt the need to protect him from those who would use him. So he did, quietly and from afar, letting Tony take most of the credit, as the billionaire was so apt to do.

Until the day that Steve came to him.

"Dr. Banner." Bruce almost jumped in surprise, but managed not to, which was good, considering the fact that his head was inside the fridge at the moment.

"Uh, hey Steve." He said, turning to face the super soldier. The blonde looked serious, but he usually did.

"I just wanted to say thank you." He said. Bruce frowned. He hadn't really done anything noteworthy, at least nothing that Steve knew of. He had alerted Fury to the presence of yet another cell moving in on Steve, but that was it. Honestly, he was fairly certain that SHIELD already had the information.

"What for?" Bruce asked.

"For watching out for us." Steve said, sitting on a barstool. Bruce busied himself with pouring a glass of milk, mostly so that he didn't have to look at Steve.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said firmly. Well, as firmly as a grown man holding a cup of milk can get. Steve just raised an eyebrow, and Bruce could feel the "power of honesty" that Tony was always babbling about start to affect him.

"Honestly, it's all Tony's equipment, he built it and stuff. I just flipped the switch." Bruce started babbling, edging towards the doorway.

"Bruce." Steve stood and walked in front of him, holding out his hand. Bruce stared at it for a moment before taking it, Steve shaking it firmly.  
"Thank you." The super soldier turned and walked out. Bruce watched him go.

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

* * *

**Clint**

Bruce thought Clint was hilarious. Sure, he shook his head at the archer's jokes, but someone had to control him when Steve was gone. Especially if Tony was involved. Clint was usually the one leading the 'Prank Wars' that happened regularly, crawling through the air vents for surprise attacks. However, Clint had a dark side. Usually no one but Natasha got to see it, but Bruce had seen it a few times, lingering in the back of the other man's eyes. Clint had probably had a more messed up home life than Bruce (which was really saying something). The darkness came when someone made an offhand comment about prison, or when the subject of carnivals came up. It was only a few moments, then Clint would quickly change the subject or excuse himself; Natasha never far behind. Bruce never mentioned it, letting the archer believe that Natasha was the only one who knew.

That's why when Bruce walked by the balcony and saw Clint sitting on the rail, staring at the stars, he almost kept walking. But something made him stop and go out, leaning against the rail next to the other man. The two stayed in silence, Clint brooding.

"How do you deal with it?" The assassin finally asked.

"Deal with what?" Bruce had a feeling as to what the archer was asking about.

"Getting made over against your will-"

"Only to wake up to see the destruction you've wrought?" Bruce interrupted, thinking of Betty in the hospital bed, the destroyed college campus, even Tony's tower. He shook his head.

"You don't." He answered. He could feel Clint's questioning gaze and hunched his shoulders, looking down at the street below rather than the starry heavens.

"You don't deal with it; you can't. So you get up every day and do what needs to be done, you take it one day, one hour, one minute at a time." He shrugged, "If you do any different, the guilt, the self-loathing; it will consume you." He glanced up to see that the archer looked to be a little between horrified and accepting. He looked down again, preferring that view.

"We're different though. You were forced to do what you did. I wasn't."

* * *

**Natasha**

Bruce liked Natasha. She was almost a kindred spirit. They both had the same kind of blood on their hands; most of it the blood of innocent people. He had a feeling that was how she could always find him. She always knew where he was because she knew where she'd go. That wasn't to say she wasn't nervous around him. On the contrary, she was scared to death of him during the first few months after the battle. Bruce hadn't been sure what to do about it; after all, she had good reason to be afraid. She had seen the worst side of him, had almost been killed by him. He didn't know how to approach her; how to assure her that it wasn't going to happen again. Because they both knew he'd be lying. That's why he was glad that she came to him.

"Dr. Banner." Her voice seemed loud in the quiet lab. Bruce glanced up from the microscope, blinking owlishly at her.

"Agent Romanoff." He greeted her politely, slipping on his glasses. Neither one of them moved any closer.

"What are you working on?" She asked.

"Just something Tony asked me to look at." He answered, "What can I do for you?" He had a feeling he knew what it was; she had been avoiding him ever since they'd moved in. She shrugged.

"Just wondering how you were doing." She said, obviously uncomfortable. Bruce raised an eyebrow, but decided to humor her.

"I'm doing fine." He replied, then cocked his head. "But that's not really what you're here for, is it?" She gave a small smile.

"You're more perceptive than I thought." She said. He shrugged, waiting for her to continue.

"I don't want to be weak." She stated simply. He leaned against the table, waiting.

"You made me feel weak." She continued, not looking him in the eye.

"I'm…sorry?" He said uncertainly. He really didn't know what to say to that. "I can tell you that… I normally have more control…Those were…hectic times. To say the least." She nodded.

"You're right. I shouldn't be afraid. But tell me this: are you afraid?" She asked. Bruce winced. She really wasn't scared of getting to the root of the conversation.

"Um…Well….That's a complicated question." She raised an eyebrow.

"Alright. What are you afraid of?"

"Hurting somebody I love." He didn't even have to think about it. She looked at him steadily for a few moments.

"I guess we're more alike than I thought."

* * *

**Tony**

Bruce wasn't sure what to think when he first met Tony Stark. He had heard of the billionaire before (honestly, who hadn't) and he even knew that Ross had used some Stark technology to track him down. His first impression was that the man was completely unconcerned for his own safety. Even just watching him parade around the deck made that obvious, but later on it was even more so. Bruce knew that he wouldn't lose control over a few pricks or shocks, but Tony didn't. It was in the middle of an argument over whether mechanics or physics was a more complicated degree that he realized Tony wasn't just unconcerned for his own safety: he trusted Bruce. Actually trusted him, when all he'd heard was about his 'giant green rage monster' and a few hypotheses, most of which had been discarded because of the accident. To be honest, Bruce wasn't sure if that made the billionaire crazy, or just likeable. He judged people on what they were like now, not their pasts. Which was interesting, considering how much Tony seemed to dwell on his own past. Whenever Steve brought up his 'old friend Howard', Tony would leave the room, or clam up. Generally there was drinking involved either way.

That was how Bruce found him one day; drunk and still pouring more amber liquid from a glass bottle.

"Tony, you okay?" Bruce questioned from the doorway. Tony waved a hand, then almost toppled from the stool he was seated on.

"F-fine." He slurred out. Bruce hesitated before going to take a seat by the other man.

"I think it's time for you to stop." He eased the bottle out of Tony's hand, somewhat concerned about the lack of fight Stark put up. He went for the glass next, and there was a little more fight, but Tony was drunk enough that it was simple enough to get it away.

"C'mon, it's time for bed." Bruce eased Tony off the stool, staggering a little under his weight.

"B-but, there's still more to drink…" Tony whined as Bruce started walking towards the door.

"No Tony, there isn't more to drink." Bruce was glad JARVIS also controlled most of the doors, he really couldn't deal with the handle right now, he was focused on supporting Tony.

"My dad drank too, you know." Tony started talking once Bruce dropped him on the bed. "I guess it's the only way that I'm like him." Bruce winced as Tony's drunken laughter filled the room.

"He never thought I was as smart as him, imagine that! I-I'm a genius, you know, and I was never smart enough."

"Tony, you're very smart. Smarter than almost everybody." Bruce comforted him, yanking off his shoes.

"I'm smarter than everyone on the planet, but I still wasn't good enough." Tony flung out an arm, but Bruce just covered him with a blanket.

"Tony, you were good enough, remember? He left a video for you." He reminded him gently. Tony shook his head violently.

"He could never say it to my face though. That's all I wanted, was for him to look at me and say I did good, that I was worthy to be his son!" Tony broke off into drunken mumblings then, finally passing out after a few minutes. Bruce considered the billionaire for a few moments before shaking his head.

"You're a better man than I am."


End file.
